


The Fight

by RitaM



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Character Study, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7351678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RitaM/pseuds/RitaM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack isn't ready for the battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fight

**Author's Note:**

> It needs to be said - all my fics so far are Jack Robinson character studies. I'll try writing Phryne soon.
> 
> This one is happening... early on.

She just... made him wonder, was all.

It's been a while since he wondered. About women. About...

_Focus, Jack._ He sighed. This just wouldn't do. He sipped at his cold tea, grimacing. The woman was a menace. Coming uninvited, bold as brass but so charming, he couldn't find it in himself to say no. Privately, he admitted that she was a damn sight more useful than actual policemen sometimes. Hugh Collins had a long way to go.

But there she was, swanning around crime scenes as if she owned them. As if she owned him. Teasing, flirtatious and absolutely impossible. She turned his head something awful, considering that he was a married man. 

Married in name only, he thought sharply. Married, if he read the signs, not for much longer. He was tired of the fight. Going to war, seeing - committing - atrocities that he now punished in the name of the law, and coming back home... to fight, again. Fighting everyday evil he could take, revel in it even. Fighting for his marriage... he'd lay down the arms long time ago. Everyone needs a little peace in their lives - and if not peace, then at least quiet. The empty house he lived in, Rosie's pinched face, the silent guilt that was his constant companion... He'd withdrawn from life, wanting peace, but it looked suspiciously like defeat.

Miss Fisher... Peace was not the word. She was exciting, so much so that she stole her way into his dreams. Twice already he woke up panting, fists clenching into the sheets. She made him fight with his own body - losing battle if there ever was one. Made him smile. Made him wonder. 

He smiled to himself. He wasn't ready to pick up the fight just yet. But maybe one day, he'd be ready for battle.


End file.
